Title: Escape Plan

Author: Ms. Quartermaine

Summary: Set in August 2007. With a little help, Tracy plans on escaping from Shady Brook.

Part 1

2 months. Had she been confined to these white walls for that long? 2 months without a single Quartermaine dinner. 2 months without a single night in her bed. 2 months without a single drop of alcohol. God, she missed that – She would drink away her away her feelings of sadness, rage, and hopelessness. But she couldn't do that now. She was forced to deal with what was happening.

Daddy had done this to her. What kind of father arranges for his daughter to be committed to a mental institution? And then she remembered. The same kind of daughter who arranges for her father to be committed. Yes, Tracy Quartermaine had sent her father to Shady Brook. Twice actually. Oddly enough, the first time, Luke Spencer was the one to come to his rescue. Where is he now?

"He doesn't love you," Alan announced, appearing on the bed.

"Wha—How?"

"I am your conscieeeeeence," he reminded her in a ghostly tone. "I am privy to your thoughts."

"Oh, really? What am I thinking now?" she questioned.

"You're thinking how wonderful it would be for me to go away."

"That's not fair!" she insisted. "I always want you to go away."

"Not so." He shook his head. "Tuesday, July 24, 2007. 2:42pm. I discovered I was fading, and you pleaded with me to stay."

"Yeah, well, I changed my mind. Do you see any more fading in your future?"

"I'm a ghost, not a fortune teller," he stated simply.

"Damnit, Alan!"

"What?" He acted innocent.

"You know," she whispered. "You're wrong about Luke."

"Am I?"

"Yeah."

"Well, if it makes you feel better, keep telling yourself that."

She snapped, "Why do you have to be so mean?!"

He shrugged. "It's not my fault the truth hurts."

Tracy frowned, evidently upset by what her brother had just said.

"Trace, I'm sorry."

"I'm going to bed," she said coldly. "Do me a favor and stay the hell out of my dreams."

o0o0o0o

The next morning, Lulu surprised Tracy when she came over unannounced.

"Tracy! Tracy! I have the best news ever!"

"You dumped Logan?"

"No, Tracy. Listen to me!" she demanded, excitedly.

Tracy paused for a moment to really look at her stepdaughter. She was positively glowing. Just ecstatic. There was just one thing in this world that would make that girl so damn cheerful—Her father.

"Oh my God…," Tracy said, realizing. "You heard from…You heard from, Luke." She couldn't believe it.

Lulu nodded, smiling. "I did, and I told him everything about uh, this, uh…"

"Predicament?"

"Yeah, predicament. Whatever you call it, and well, he's gonna get you out of here!!!"

This was too good to be true. Tracy did her best to keep the joy she felt hidden.

She nodded, again. "I swear. He called me to tell me he's gonna be back tonight, and when he asked for you—"

Tracy didn't hear the rest. Her heart about stopped when she found out that Luke cared enough to ask for her.

"Hey, Tracy? You with me?" Lulu tried getting her attention.

"Uh, what?"

"When he asked for you, I explained what happened. Oh, he's sorry that you got arrested and even sorrier for uh, this mess, but he's totally gonna make it up to you."

Tracy examined Lulu closely. "What has gotten into you? You're acting like…"

"Like I actually care about you?"

"Yeah, I don't get it."

The last month or so, the stepmom and daughter hadn't gotten along much at all. Their respect for one another seemed to vanish once Logan Hayes, Lulu's newest admirer, entered the picture. Tracy knew the young man, who happened to be Scott Baldwin's son, was no good for Luke Spencer's daughter. But, Lulu saw otherwise…

"Tracy," Lulu began to explain. "Look. I know that you love my dad, just like I know he loves you. And I know sometimes I act like I hate your guts, and yeah, sometimes, I do—"

"Well, thank you, little Lulu," she spoke sarcastically.

"But," she went on. "You've been, um, you've been good, I guess, to me, and no matter what Edward says, I still don't think you belong in here."

"Thank you," she said, grateful.

Lulu nodded. "Okay. So back to business. My dad has this whole plan."

"Let's hear it."

o0o0o0o

That evening, Tracy prepared to put her husband's plan into action.

"It's never gonna work." Alan had appeared…again.

"I didn't ask for you opinion," she responded through her teeth.

"No, but I know you'll take into consideration. You have to. I'm your conscience, remember?"

"Yes, I remember. Now, shut up."

"And there you go again, disrespecting the dead as usual."

"Oh, please." She rolled her eyes.

If Tracy didn't have work to do, the bickering between the two could've lasted for hours.

"I can't believe there is no lamp in here," Tracy said to herself.

"Well, it's probably so people like yourself can't put their head underneath it and feign illness to get out."

"Oh, would you just stop? I'll, um…" she thought aloud. "I'll come up with another way to make it look like I'm burning up." She paused for a moment. "Got it."

"What?"

"I am going to exercise."

Alan burst out laughing. "You? Exercise? Like that's happened since 1970."

"Ha. Ha," she spat before starting to do jumping-jacks.

"Oh my God. You're serious."

"7, 8, 9, 10…"

She stopped at 30. "Damn, I don't remember that being so hard. What's next?"

Alan just shook his head in amusement.

"Sit-ups!"

Alan put a hand over his face. "Ohhh, Tracy."

o0o0o0o

"All right. How do I look?"

"Like you've run a 10 mile marathon?"

"Really?" she said, happily.

"No," he laughed.

"Well, it'll have to do. All right." She took a deep breath.

"Oh, I can't watch." Alan closed his eyes.

"Prepare to be amazed."

"Tracy, it's never going to work. You're not an actress."

"It's going to have to. Okay. On the count of three. 1, 2, 3—" And with that, she fell to the ground, clutched her stomach, and yelped, "Ohhhh! Ohhhh!"

Alan was laughing hysterically.

"Why are you laughing? I'm supposed to be in pain here."

"You're moaning, 'Ohhh! Ohhh!'" he imitated. "Pain is not the first thing that comes to mind."

"Eww. Eww," she repeated. "Don't even go there."

"You know, Monica made that sound right before Oopsie—"

"Alan! I am trying to focus here. Ohhh! Oww!" she tried again. "Help! Help!"

In that second, two men in white coats entered. "Mam, are you all right?"

"Ohhh," she continued. "Yeah, yeah…I just—" They went to help her up, but she forced herself to fall to the ground again. "Ohhhh!"

"Less moaning," Alan coached.

"Shut up, Alan!" she screamed. "And then she told the men, "I'm fine. I'm fine. I, uh, just…" She swallowed hard. "I just had a cramp." She pretended it was no big deal, as she continued to clutch the right side of her abdomen. "I'm fine." Then, they helped her up a second time, and she, while still in their grasp, made herself fall a second time. "Ohhhh!"

Alan had his arms crossed. "I do not see an Oscar in your future."

Next, Tracy turned on the tears. "It hurts. It hurts…"

"We need to call 911," one of the men suggested.

The other one agreed.

Just then, another man came into the room. "Need help in here?"

"Yes, call 911. Tell the paramedics abdominal pain, and—" He felt her head although Tracy resisted. "A low-grade fever. Mam, does anything else hurt?"

She shook her head, "No, no, just my stomach…Ohhh, ohhh," she said while rubbing it.

"I'll call right away."

"Brava!" said Alan. "You surprised me, Trace. You just better hope the sequel goes as well."

Still lying on the ground, Tracy just glared at her brother.

He shrugged his shoulders. "What?"